It seems a trend is developing. Every time I come over to Tracey's to babysit, I end up at some point stealing her laptop and a few moments of time to post on the blog. Mostly because once I'm here, I realize how long it's been since I've checked her blog, and after reading the five or six posts I missed, the guilt gets to me along with a sense that OH! LOOK! there's yet ANOTHER job I feel I'm not doing so well at right now! Ya know what? Fuck it. That's right. Fuck it.
I. Need. A. Vacation.
To Do:
1. Quit one of my three (paying) jobs. I mean, seriously.
2. Set aside time each week to play music and/or write and DO IT.
3. Lay off the guilt trip.
4. Make more time for my partner so that I don't wind up "wound up tighter than a goddamn piano wire" (thanks, Johnette Napolitano, once again), needing instead of a simple night out to dinner/day at the beach, a more costly and time-consuming recreational activity such as, hm, I dunno, LET'S GO TO IRELAND AND BLOW FIVE GRAND IN A WEEK! While the latter remains nonetheless on my To Do list, the former is of greater priority given my current financial resources and the soon-to-be dwindled number of them.
5. Has anyone seen my family around lately? Half of everyone I know right now is getting ready to die, and the other half is getting married. My siblings and I seem lost in the middle somewhere, caretaking, working for the man, etc., and I can't seem to locate any of them among the diapers, time changes, and jobs. If you happen to run into any of my brothers or sisters, please tell them I'd like them to get their asses up here. Please. Then give him/her a sock in the arm. Then a hug. Thank you.